


Show Me How To Live - One-Shots

by imafriendlydalek



Series: Show Me [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M, One Shot Collection, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-02 20:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4072786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imafriendlydalek/pseuds/imafriendlydalek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of scenes that fall within the Show Me How To Live 'verse but aren't directly part of the story. These may make sense if you haven't read the rest, which you should anyway. You know you want to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steve discovers the piano at the Mansion

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to send prompts for scenes to [my tumblr page](http://imafriendlydalek.tumblr.com/)!  
> Each scene will be its own chapter.

It was a long day of meetings at the office and Tony is itching to get out of his business clothes and into the workshop. Or maybe into bed, he thinks as he hears the sound of Let It Be being played on the piano and Steve’s clear singing voice coming from the sitting room. He stops in the doorway to watch for a minute, then Steve spots him and stops playing. He ducks his head in embarrassment.

“I didn’t know you play the piano.”

Steve shrugs. “Just a little. Susanna taught me some, during the bond sales tour. Didn’t get much chance to practice, though, after that.”

Tony sits down next to him on the piano bench; Steve scoots over to make room. Tony hovers his fingers over the keys and then starts playing. He misses a few notes here and there, but slowly Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata comes back to him.

“I didn’t know you play the piano.”

Tony shrugs but keeps playing. “Mom made me take lessons. Grow up in a certain segment of society, there are certain skills you’re expected to learn. Piano, tennis, ballroom dancing, horseback riding, …”

“Horseback riding?”

“Polo was a thing for a while. Turns out, not my thing. After three lessons they saw the light and let me quit. But piano, I did that for like five years.”

Steve kisses his shoulder. “You never cease to amaze me, Tony Stark.”

Tony stops playing and places Steve’s hands on the keys. “No, _you_ amaze _me_ , Steve Rogers. It’s almost embarrassing how poorly I play, considering I had five years of lessons from a former member of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. You, on the other hand, learned from a showgirl in between performances. _And_ you can sing.”

Steve starts playing again; this time it’s a Ben Folds song.

“What if I’d been born,” he sings with a grin, “fifty years before you in a house, on your street...”

“I hate you so much.” Tony punches him playfully in the arm as he gets up. “I’m ordering dinner. None for you.” 

“And in a wide sea of eyes, I see one pair that I recognize…” Steve is struggling to hit the high notes, but he owns it so convincingly that Tony can’t help laughing.

“And I know, that I am, I am the luckiest…”

“Alright, I’m opening a bottle of wine. Need something to go with all that cheese.”

Steve is still playing when Tony returns from the kitchen with a bottle of Cab Sauv and two glasses. He presses a kiss into his blond hair.

“You are such a cheeseball.”

"Speaking of cheeeese," he sings, "I made ma-ca-ro-niiii it's in the oooo-veeeeeen!"

"You are my very favorite cheeseball."


	2. A Day in the Life of the Executive Assistant to the CEO of Stark Industries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not writing fluff to avoid writing difficult scenes in the actual story, no, definitely not.  
> Okay maybe.

Pepper loves her job, she really does, and she loves her boss too, but sometimes she really just wants to punch the damn kid in the face.

She doesn’t, because she’s a professional and because her best friend would probably not appreciate her punching his boyfriend, but she sure does think about it.

“The Board meeting is scheduled to start in fifteen minutes, Tony.”

“That’s plenty of time,” he says distractedly, his focus still on the gadget he’s fiddling with.

“It _would_ be plenty of time, if you were at the office, like you’re supposed to be, and not in your workshop at home. It’ll take at least that long to get downtown at this time of day, and you can’t go dressed like that.” She gestures at his torn jeans and faded t-shirt. GOONIES NEVER SAY DIE, it reads.

Tony looks down at himself and rolls his eyes dramatically, but at least he gets up and crosses the room towards her.

“Here,” she says, shoving a cup of coffee at him.

“You are the perfect woman, Pepper Potts,” he says as he downs it, depositing the cup on a sideboard in the hallway before ducking into his bedroom.

“I’ll be sure to remind Jim of that next time he forgets,” she calls through the door that Tony has left slightly ajar.

“How is Rhodey? He never calls me anymore, stupid jerk.”

“Phone time is kind of limited in Iraq, Tony.” He has three months left on this tour, and Pepper is counting the days.

“Right. Sorry. I should really make a -”

“No,” Pepper interrupts him when he steps out of the room, now dressed in a dark blue suit. He’s still wearing Converse sneakers, but she’s willing to let that slide now. It seems to be the latest fashion anyway, though she’s sure that’s not why Tony does it. “We need to go now.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says with a mock salute and follows her to the waiting car.

***

The meeting goes well, unusually well, actually, even if they were twenty minutes late. Tony has a tendency to get distracted and zone out, but when he’s focused, like he is today, his natural acuity for business matters really shines through. He’s an engineer at heart, not really the type for the focused discourse of talks of takeovers and disposals, but he can negotiate with the best of them and knows well enough when to defer to the opinions of others. More and more, he calls on Pepper for her input, he involves her in the proceedings, he gives her the floor. She had hesitated at first when he had offered her the job as his Executive Assistant six months ago since her goal had been a management position, but her position clearly affords her a lot more power than the title suggests.

“What do you think, Ms. Potts?” A former competitor has become available for acquisition and they are debating whether to combine its business or buy it and sell it off piecemeal. The Board is split on it, so it’s down to Tony’s executive decision.

“I think its core assets are solid and would make a strong contribution to SI revenues, and, with some expansion, its energy division would make a great addition to our portfolio when coupled with Stark reactor technology.”

Tony nods at her with a smile. “Sold. You heard her, folks. Buy it, combine it, expand it, stick a big S on it.” He pushes his chair back and heads for the door. “Anything related to this merger, send it to Ms. Potts. I’m putting you in charge of this one, Pepper.”

Pepper loves her job, she really does.


	3. Afghanistan f*cking blows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A word of warning: This is what Tony thinks while he is held captive by the Ten Rings in Afghanistan. It's in line with canon, so there's hints of violence and torture. Also Tony curses a lot.  
> I've amended the rating for this fic to Teen to reflect this.

The Jericho missile seems to be a hit (haha) - the military brass looks impressed, and they are certainly enjoying the StarkBar case that accompanies every presentation.

_Whiskey on the rocks would be nice right about now_ , Tony thinks, but they won’t let him drink around the military. Which is bullshit, what the hell. He’s old enough to build this stuff, his company is providing the bar, he should damn well be allowed to join the toast to celebrate. 

Besides, he’ll be 21 in, like, two weeks.

_What’s the drinking age in Afghanistan, anyway?_ he asks himself as he climbs into the Humvee. The Funvee, he calls it to Rhodey, who’s still mad at him for that thing on the plane.

He tries to get a conversation going with the soldiers in the Humvee, desperate for some banter to take his mind off how much he doesn’t want to be there. One of them turns out to be a woman, actually, so he flirts with her. Just a bit of playful, harmless flirting, of course.

“I thought you were gay?” one of them asks hesitantly. Not asking or telling doesn’t apply to civilians then, huh?

Tony waves a hand dismissively. “I try not to get too caught up with labels. I take it as it comes, which is ideally often, and with me.”

That earns him a laugh. Okay, good. That’s when it hits him that they’re all just about as old as he is. One even looks younger than he is. Probably the same age Steve was when he went to war.

Steve. Damn he misses him.

One of the soldiers asks to take a picture with him, and they’re grinning and holding up peace signs when the rockets hit and there’s gunfire and explosions and the soldiers go down one after the other trying to protect him and Tony has no idea what to do but he can’t stay there, so he runs, and he hears the whine of an incoming missile and there’s just enough time for him to see his own name on it before he’s knocked back by the explosion and it feels like he’s being ripped apart and then it feels like he’s being drained as he watches blood soak through his shirt and holy shit that’s his blood what the fuck I need that someone help me where’s Steve I need you Steve

***

He comes to in the dark cave and there are strange faces and even stranger voices and they’re yelling at him and what the fuck is that feeling in his chest?

***

The other man in the cave explains it to him later, the magnet in his chest, and Tony sits quietly as he does, probably more quietly than he’s ever sat anywhere before, except that time when Steve told him about Captain America. 

Steve.

That’s when the guys with the guns - his guns, damn it - come back in and the other man interprets for him.

“Welcome, Tony Stark,” the one that seems to the leader says, “the most famous mass murderer in the history of America.”

Wait, what? No. Maybe? Fuck.

They want him to build the Jericho for them, which - um no, not gonna happen.

So they shove his head underwater until he can’t breathe anymore and when he tries to he feels the water filling his lungs and he just needs air let me back I need to breathe I don’t want to drown - ohmygod air thank you!

“Build it,” they say.

“I refuse,” Tony repeats, and it’s back into the water and he feels the device in his chest sparking and the water is cold and it’s in his lungs and he can’t breathe and he sees Steve suddenly, staring at him through the water.

Steve.

That’s when he decides what he needs to do, and he tells them he’ll build the missile, though he won’t, of course, because he’s got a different plan now.

***

Well he might be stuck with this thing in his chest but he’s certainly not going to walk through life schlepping around a car battery. He’s almost stopped freaking out about it every time he takes a deeper breath or looks down at himself. Almost. There’s a whole lot of ugly scar tissue around the casing and a near-constant ache in his chest.

But fuck this, if these are the lemons that life is giving him, he’s making tequila shots. 

Or a miniaturized arc reactor to power the most badass thing he has ever come up with.

And to keep him alive. Yeah, that.

***

They’re playing backgammon when the other man, Yinsen he’s called, tells him about his family. Tony thinks about his own family. _SHIELD YOURSELF_ , he thinks.

“Do you have a family?”

“My parents are dead,” he answers, unsure how the man would react to hearing about Steve.

Steve.

***

He learns to trust Yinsen as they work together, though, and Yinsen just smiles when he does tell him about Steve.

“It’s good to know that there’s someone waiting for you,” Yinsen says.

It is good. Some days, that’s the only thought that keeps him going. Giving up would be easy, but he has a purpose. He needs to get back those guns, and he needs to get back to Steve.

Then Yinsen gives up his life to buy Tony some time to get out and jesus fuck he has had enough of getting people killed, of people dying because of him.

So he torches the place.

***

Now he’s wandering around the desert, which is absolutely not something he’s equipped for. He’s got no water, he’s pretty sure there’s an infection festering around that thing in his chest, and some sunblock would be really fucking good right about now.

He’s gone a while without eating before, but that was by choice. Now there’s just that gnawing feeling in his stomach, in his chest, and nothing to distract him.

He doesn’t want to die alone in the desert.

He needs to get back to Steve.

***

Holy fucking shit, he’s always loved the sound of machinery, but the hum of helicopter blades is like the best fucking rock song he has ever heard.

A soldier jumps out of the chopper and runs towards him, and he has never been so happy in his life to see him. James fucking Rhodes.

“How was the Funvee?”

Tony cracks a smile, cracking open his parched lips but the pain doesn’t register.

“Next time you ride with me,” Rhodey says.

There won’t be a next time. He’s done being the “Merchant of Death” (and who the fuck came up with that name, anyway?). Things are gonna change.

But first things first.

“Steve. Where’s Steve?”

Rhodey belts him into the chopper seat (not like he couldn’t do it himself, but he’s suddenly so exhausted) and has a hand firmly on his arm. It’s both reassuring and disconcerting. “He’s in New York. He’s waiting for you.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“You need to get to the hospital.”

Tony wants to refute but snaps his mouth shut again (ow, lips). “Okay. But then I need to talk to him.”

***

He can hear Rhodey on the phone behind the curtain while the doctor is stitching him up, and it has to be either Steve or Pepper.

“Lemme talk to him,” Tony calls to him, reaching for his friend.

“Mr. Stark, you need to sit still,” the doctor growls. The nurse tightens her hold on his shoulder.

“I will buy this hospital and fire all of you if you don’t let me talk to my boyfriend RIGHT NOW.” Okay, he might have gone a little to Mr. Hyde there just now, but Rhodey’s coming back, so it seems to have done the trick.

“Here, he wants to talk to you,” Rhodey says into the phone as Tony makes grabby hands for it. The doctor is still glaring daggers at him.

Rhodey finally hands him the phone, which is his new favorite piece of technology.

“Hey sugarpie, miss me?”

He hears Steve’s laughter on the other end of the line and it is the best fucking sound he has ever heard in his life.


	4. The Steve Rogers Aspiring Artists Endowment

When Steve suggests that they go to the Iron Pour a year after the one they met at, he makes the mistake of saying it’s to celebrate their anniversary.

Tony, of course, rolls his eyes dramatically at his boyfriend and calls him a sap.

“Sap or no,” Steve says dryly, “it’s still an event that involves pouring melted iron on fire. Relevant to your interests.”

With a sigh and a glare, Tony relents. He loves every minute of the event, of course, and stares up at Steve in that way that Steve knows means he’s also happy about their anniversary though he won’t say it.

By the time it rolls around again the next year, it’s Tony who suggests they go again. He has JARVIS look up the date, but the AI informs him that the event has been cancelled due to a lack of funding.

“You know what to do, J.”

The event is bigger and louder than ever before, and Tony couldn’t be happier.

“This is your doing, isn’t it?” Steve asks when it’s over.

Tony shrugs. “I may have done a thing.”

The MassArt Iron Forgers Club (that’s a thing?) sends him a twisted metal sculpture as a thank you. It’s actually pretty cool-looking, so he puts it on the sideboard in the sitting room. He gets a number of compliments on it during a fundraiser party at the mansion, so he gives out the club’s contact information, which earns him another thank you gift. Apparently they got a bunch of commissions as a result.

_Good for them, they can probably use the boost._ He remembers the look of sheer joy on Steve’s face during the opening of his show at the coffee shop.

_I bet I can do more._

***

Tony is sprawled out on the couch, going through some numbers on his tablet, when Steve walks in. He’s got that Disapproving Face on again. Uh-oh.

“What did I do?” 

“Tony.” He’s holding a letter. Tony can just make out the MassArt letterhead.

“Yes, honeypie, light of my life?”

“I think it’s great that you want to set up a scholarship fund for aspiring artists in my name at my alma mater, that’s incredible, actually, but I don’t think it should be called the Well-Endowed Steve Rogers Art Fund.”

Tony holds up his tablet to hide a grin and feigns ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The letter is thrust in his face. “It says right here that you stipulated it be called that.”

So it does. Those bastards, he had told them to keep it quiet. Well, not to tell Steve.

“You weren’t supposed to know that.”

“I noticed. This letter is the one they sent Pepper.”

Crap. Tony kicks his feet up off the arm of the couch and rolls into a seated position. “Well, if I can’t rely on her to keep secrets from my lover, I’m going to have to find a new assistant.”

He pushes himself up and starts towards the kitchen, but Steve catches him by the wrist.

“Tony…” he growls in that commanding way that Tony can never resist.

“Alright. How about the Steve Rogers Up-and-Coming Artists Fund?”

“Only if there’s also a Tony Stark Coming On His Own These Days Engineers Fund at MIT,” Steve retorts. 

_Damn he’s good._

Tony agrees to change the name in the end. He was going to all along, that was always the plan, but he certainly wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity like that to annoy Steve.

Maybe he should let Steve take care of the charitable donations in the future...


	5. Captain Spanglybutt - Aesthetics vs. Functionality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place during Chapter 12 of Show Me How To Live - sometime after Tony has started building the Mark II but before the big showdown with Stane.

There’s a SHIELD car parked outside the mansion when Tony pulls into the driveway. Agent Coulson must be there.

He hears Steve’s voice coming from the library as he comes up from the garage.

“You don’t think it’s a little flashy? It’s not exactly stealth.”

“You’re not exactly a stealth fighter, Captain,” Coulson replies. Neither seems to notice Tony coming in and leaning against the door frame.

Steve is standing in the middle of the room, his back to the door and his hands on his hips. 

_What on earth is he wearing?_

“I don’t like this cowl thing.” He’s turning his head from side to side. “It’s a little hard to move around in.”

“Alright, we’ll lose the cowl.”

“What do you think, Tony?” Steve asks without turning around.

Tony crosses the room and walks around Steve, taking his time to appreciate the view.

It looks like a slightly more modern version of the uniform Tony knows so very well from all those comics he read as a kid. The uniform is mostly bright blue, with a big white star on the chest and red and white stripes on his abs.

_God bless Agent Nerdboy_ , Tony thinks. Those pants hug Steve’s ass in all the right ways. Is that spandex?

“From an aesthetic point of view, ohmygod yes. I’m throwing away all your other pants, sugarplum. From an engineering point of view, it needs a bit of work. There’s not much there in the way of armoring, and that fabric doesn’t look like it’d hold up against anything more than a switchblade. I can add some kevlar plating, maybe go with an aramid polymer fiber, put a comm link in that helmet. Those exposed zippers could be a prob-”

He’s cut off with a kiss from Steve. Thankfully not from Coulson. That would be awkward.

Really awkward.


	6. The Shower Talks Now. What the Heck?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony can't stop "upgrading" stuff.  
> This takes place while they're living in Boston.

Steve lets himself into Tony’s apartment with his keycard. There’s no reply except for a whirring from Dummy when he calls out a greeting as he steps out of the elevator, so Tony probably isn’t home yet. He deposits his art portfolio next to the drawing table and heads into the bathroom, stripping of his clothes and turning on the water just before he steps into the shower. The water is just the right temperature, and he savors the feel of it hitting his face. Slowly the tension of the day starts to unwind and he feels himself relax.

“Sir,” a voice suddenly rips him out of his thoughts. His head whips up and smacks into the showerhead. 

“Apologies,” the voice of the AI Tony has been working on, JARVIS, continues, “but Sir has returned home and is requesting permission to join you.”

Steve leans back against the shower wall, rubbing the shampoo out of his eyes. “Tony,” he says loud enough to be heard through the door over the sound of the water. “Come on in.”

He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face. He looks so damn proud of himself that Steve is having a hard time maintaining his serious look and almost cracks a smile.

“The shower talks now?” Steve raises an eyebrow as he asks it. He asks himself, not for the first time and certainly not for the last time, how his life came to this.

Tony’s already peeling off his layers of clothing, dropping them on the floor as he makes his way towards the shower. “Yep, I installed JARVIS all over the house.”

“So there’s…” Steve doesn’t finish the question, just points towards the ceiling.

“No, no cameras in here, just motion sensors. I might be messed up in the head but I’m not a weirdo.” Tony pulls open the shower door and steps in.

“I think the jury is still out on that one,” Steve says as he angles the showerhead to spray directly at Tony, who shrieks in surprise.

“Stop it!” he sputters.

“Only if you promise to tell me next time you equip something with artificial intelligence. Scared me half to death.”

“Cut the water, J!” Tony calls and the water is turned off immediately. “Steven would like a cold shower.” The spout moves to where Steve is standing and the water turns on again. Steve can’t help but gasp as the cold water hits him.

“That’s not a promise I can keep,” Tony says with a maniacal grin.

Steve lunges forward, wraps his arms around Tony and drags him back under the spray. “Then I will have to play dirty too,” he says, laughing as Tony tries to push away.

Tony gives up quickly, moving on to nibbling at Steve’s collarbone instead, which Steve certainly is not going to protest about.


	7. Rhodey is a good bro

“Hey barkeep, gimme two more, please,” Tony says, tapping the folded bill on the bar. It’s general knowledge that Tony Stark is only eighteen (seemingly half of Boston was invited to his birthday party, after all), but he’s found that tipping well is usually enough to make people forget that pesky fact.

It’s working on this guy. The bartender pours out two more shots and pushes them across the bar to Tony and Rhodey with a smile. “Here you go.” He draws out the “heeeeeeere”. 

“Thanks, man,” Tony replies, flashing his grin.

Rhodey is eyeing the shot glass as if he’s trying to decide what to do with it.

“Less thinking, Aristotle, more drinking.” Tony nudges his friend as he lifts his glass. “Here’s to complicated relationships.”

Rhodey groans as he lifts his glass. His eyes meet Tony’s and they down their shots in tandem.

Tony savors the burn as the alcohol works its way down his throat. Rhodey winces.

“Fuck,” he says, wiping his lip with his sleeve. “How do you do that?!”

“Stark genes. Learned from the master.”

Rhodey kicks him lightly in the shin. “Stop being serious. ‘S not allowed.”

Tony spreads his hands faux-apologetically. “You’re the one who wanted to hang out and talk about his feeeeeelings.”

At that, Rhodey groans and buries his head in his arms. “I don’t get it, man. She’s like an enigma. I can’t figure ‘er out. No matter how much I try. And then it jus’ like, takes over my thoughts and she’s all I can think about.”

“Sounds like you, dear Rhodey-o, have fallen hard for Ms. Potts.” Tony claps a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He motions to the bartender for another round.

Rhodey tilts his head to glare up at Tony around his arm. “I dunno what I was thinking, coming to you for relationship advice.”

“Hey now! I take offense at that! I have been in a relationship more-or-less successfully for, like, seven whole months.”

“Which is six-and-three-quarter months longer’n _all_ of your previous relationships. Combined. How the fuck did that happen.” It’s not really a question. Tony is just as bewildered about it as Rhodey sounds, to be honest.

“It’s Steve.” Rhodey narrows his eyes at him, but Tony continues. “Seriously. It’s like he decided we’re going to be together and so we are. I swear to god, he is the most stubborn guy in the world. He gets an idea in his head and that’s it. I think if I ever were to decide to break up with him, he would probably just go like-” Tony stands up straight, folds his arms across his chest and puts on a serious face. “‘No, I don’t accept,’” he says in an even tone of voice that actually kind of sounds like Steve.

“Yep, that sounds about right,” Rhodey laughs.

The bartender slides the next round over towards them and Tony lifts his glass. He holds it up, mumbles “To Captain America,” and downs the shot. “Captain Stubbornbutt,” he corrects. “To Captain Stubbornbutt.”

Rhodey is still holding his glass and now he’s staring at Tony, the question evident on Rhodey’s face.

Fuck. Way to let the cat out of the bag, Tony. Good job. “I meant Stubbornbutt. Don’t know where America came from. It’s from spending time with you. You with your Army-”

“Air Force.”

“-Air Force-y drive to ask what you can do for your country. Seriously, you guys are way too patriotic for this world.”

“Where did you say Steve served, again?”

“Kandahar,” Tony blurts out before he realizes what’s going on. He’d never actually told Rhodey that Steve had been in the Army - Steve had asked him not to.

Rhodey is giving him that Disapproving Face, and it’s almost as scary as Steve’s.

Tony leans against the bar, resigned to his fate. “Yeah, okay, not Kandahar. So I never told you, and don’t be mad, it’s just really, _really_ classified, I only found out like a month ago, but actually Steve is kind of a super-soldier. Well, THE super-soldier. He’s actually Captain America. Like, the real one.”

Now Rhodey’s glowering at him. Super.

“Wait, what?” And he’s doing the raised eyebrow thing. Oh-oh.

“Anyway, what I was going to say was-” Tony lifts his glass, then realizes it’s empty again and sets it back down, “-that maybe since Steve and Pepper are like BFFs, he might be the person to talk to.”

There’s a hand on his wrist. Oh, it’s just Rhodey’s. That’s okay.

“Tony, back up for a minute. Did you just say-” Rhodey scans the room and drops his voice “-that Steve is Captain America? How is that even possible?”

“The sheer power of his awesomeness.”

“How does the world not know this?”

“No! They can’t know! I don’t even think Pepper knows. Well, we should probably tell her now, if you know. Steve should tell her,” he corrects. “But can you imagine what the press would say if Captain America suddenly turned up again? And the military? They’d try to make him out to be some sort of weapon. No, absolutely not. We had enough trouble getting him out of SHIELD’s hands.”

Rhodey’s staring at him, and he’s not blinking. That’s kind of weird. “Okay, I understood like half of what you just said. I think I need some water. Maybe some nachos. I like nachos.”

“Nachos are a great idea. Hey buddy,” Tony waves to signal the bartender, “we are in dire need of nachos. Like, all the nachos. And cheesy dip, lots of that. And some water for my lightweight friend. I’ll stick with scotch.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark,” the bartender replies as he pulls two glasses from the shelf.

Ugh, Tony hates it when they call him that. ‘Mr. Stark’ was his father. Tony’s not ready to fill those shoes yet. “Just Tony, thanks.”

Rhodey’s looking a little worse for wear, and Tony’s not sure if it’s because of those shots they just downed or maybe the news he just threw at him. ‘My boyfriend is an eighty-eight-year-old super-soldier’ is probably not the kind of thing one should casually mention over drinks, he realizes in hindsight. Stupid hindsight.


	8. Part-Time Model

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has to go to a photoshoot for a magazine and he makes the mistake of bringing Steve along. Steve is really into photo equipment. The photographer is really into Steve - from an aesthetic point of view, of course.

It’s a fluff piece for a fluff magazine, and they run it every year, so Tony’s not surprised when he gets a call from his assistant informing him that he’s been nominated again. He won it last year, so he’d better win again, he thinks, not that he really cares about the title, but it would suck to think that he’s not as hot this year as he was last year. He’s too young to have passed his prime.

There’s a photoshoot, which is to be expected, of course. Pictures are what sell the magazine, and this is largely about looks. Okay, in his case his other assets probably come in to play. He’s not an actor, after all, or that kind of celebrity, but heir to the Stark fortune is definitely a boost to his name. Even Tony’s not deluded enough to think that this is all due to his incredible good looks.

Anyway, the photoshoot. They usually dress him up in some sort of outfit and make him get into weird poses, which is fun for about half an hour but these tend to take at least three. So he decides to invite Steve along. Misery loves company, right?

Except Steve actually seems to be enjoying himself. Which kind of makes sense. He did his fair share of promo photoshoots during his early days selling war bonds, after all. But now he’s following the poor photographer, Patrick, around like a puppy, peppering him with questions about stuff like apertures and f-stops and megapixels and focal lengths.

Tony watches amusedly. He should have known better than to bring him to what is basically an art nerd’s equivalent of Disneyland.

“So how come you’re not on this list?” Patrick asks Steve. 

Tony smiles and looks at his boyfriend. “Steve’s not eligible. He’s an ooooold man,” he teases.

Steve flicks a fedora at Tony’s head, but Tony catches it and puts it on with a grin. He hears the camera shutter snapping rapidly. Patrick seems to be loving this.

“Well, we really need to set something up anyway. I’d love to get you in front of my camera.” 

It’s not meant to be flirty, but Tony snorts anyway and waggles his eyebrows. “I bet you would, Patrick.”

“I’m serious. Look at that jawline. It’s practically begging to have its picture taken.”

Steve blushes at that. _God, it’s been a long time since he’s seen that blush_ , Tony thinks with a fond smile as he remembers that afternoon almost two years ago at the coffee shop in Boston, and the camera shutter snaps again.

That ends up being the photo they use. When Tony opens up the magazine, he gets that weird feeling of warmth spreading throughout his entire body. _What is that?_ He’s looking at a photo of himself, but all he sees is fondness for Steve. It’s spelled out so clearly in his own eyes. Geez, when did he become such a sap?

***

Steve, in the mean time, has arranged to shadow Patrick at some of his photoshoots so he can learn more about photography. In exchange, he’s agreed to model for him. Patrick puts the photos up on his portfolio website, and then they go viral. The traffic crashes Patrick’s website and Steve is flooded with calls from magazines and modeling agencies hoping to bring him on board. He even gets offered a role on some soap opera. He turns them all down graciously, though.

Tony asks Pepper to hire Patrick as the official photographer for the next Stark Industries event and Patrick in turn sends Tony a black and white print of his favorite photo from the shoot as a thank-you. In the photo, Steve is sitting in the window, the light streaming in from the side so that half of his face is in darkness. His forehead is leaning against the glass and he’s looking at something just to the side of the viewer. There’s something about his wistful look that makes Tony want to stare at it for hours on end. 

Tony decides to hang it in the library next to the portrait Steve had painted of him back in college. Steve protests, of course, but Tony does it anyway.


	9. Oh Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for Shusu and Orange_Coyote. Behold the power of comments ;-)

“Oh Tony.”

“What? It’s a perfectly valid argument.”

Pepper just shakes her head and turns back to her work.

***

“Oh Tony.”

“Come on, Cheerios are totally a valid dinner option.”

Steve just shakes his head and makes himself a sandwich.

***

“Oh Tony.”

“Really? Both of you are gonna gang up on me?” 

Tony folds his arms across his chest, a gesture that is mirrored by Pepper and Steve.

“We’re not ganging up. We’re merely pointing out that maybe there are more advisable plans of action.”

***

“D’you ever get tired of it?”

“Of what?”

“You know, all those ‘oh Tony’ moments. Those things that he does that make you question how he’s made it this far in life?”

Steve and Pepper exchange a glance and both laugh. Steve shakes his head while Pepper nods enthusiastically. Then Steve nods and Pepper shakes her head.

“All the time, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Rhodey smiles. “Yeah, me too. Don’t know how you two put up with it on a daily basis, though.”

***

“Here. I got you something.”

“Aw Steve, what’s the occasion?” Pepper opens the box carefully.

“It’s just a little something,” he says as she lifts it out of the box. She holds the bracelet up and runs her fingers over it lightly.

“It’s beautiful.” She turns it over and reads the inscription on the inside. A hide smile spreads across her face.

“Let’s call it a commiseration friendship bracelet,” Steve says, pulling up his sleeve to reveal his own.

***

“Oh Tony.” Pepper touches her bracelet lightly as she says it.

“Just gimme five minutes.”

“The meeting was supposed to start ten minutes ago.”

***

“Oh Tony.” Steve touches his bracelet lightly as he says it.

“What’s up with that, anyway?”

“With what?” Steve tugs his sleeve down quickly.

“You and Pepper. Don’t think I didn’t notice you both started wearing matching bracelets at the same time, and every time one of you says ‘Oh Tony,’ you touch the bracelet.” 

“It’s just a thing. Like a friendship bracelet.”

Tony rolls his eyes dramatically. “Ohmigod, you guys are like twelve-year-old girls.”

***

Steve’s bracelet is gone from the dresser when he gets out of the shower the next morning.

It reappears the next morning, but it feels slightly heavier. “Oh Tony,” he says as he puts it on.

***

Pepper’s bracelet is gone when she looks down at her wrist the next day. She knows she had been wearing it just a few hours ago when she’d had another ‘Oh Tony’ moment, and Tony had led her by the wrist to their lunch meeting, so she thinks “Oh Tony” and decides not to worry about it too much.

It reappears on her desk the next afternoon, but it feels slightly heavier. “Oh Tony,” she says as she puts it on.

***

 _That’s weird_ , Steve thinks. He pulls back his sleeve and touches his bracelet. It feels warmer than usual and the inscription is glowing in a light blue.

“Oh Tony,” he says.


	10. We're Toast.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every celebrity couple gets a nickname sooner or later.

“Aw, hun, look.” Tony veers off and stops in front of the newsstand. Steve wanders over casually.

They’re on their way out to brunch, and Steve looks exactly like the type of guy who drags his boyfriend out of bed far too early on a Sunday morning for brunch. He’s wearing dark blue chinos and a deep red polo shirt over a white t-shirt. Because he is pathologically unable to not dress patriotically, apparently.

Tony looks down at himself. He’s doing a pretty good job playing the role of “recent college graduate with zero fucks given”, he thinks as he runs a hand down his t-shirt to smoothe out a wrinkle. It’s one of his favorite shirts, because it’s true: “I’M AN ENGINEER” it reads, “To save time, let’s just assume I’M ALWAYS RIGHT.”

“What is it?” Steve asks, placing a hand at the small of Tony’s back. 

Damn, he loves when he does that.

“Look, we’re on the front cover.” Tony points to the latest issue of Us Weekly. The cover photo is the up-and-coming starlet of the week, but the photo on the side is of the two of them, taken at graduation a few weeks ago. ‘TONY STARK GRADUATES MIT, MOVES TO NYC WITH HIS HOT BF. MORE PHOTOS INSIDE’

Steve frowns slightly at that. They’ve worked out the situation with Sitwell, but he still seems uneasy about being in the spotlight.

“They think you’re hot,” Tony points out in the hopes that that will turn that frown upside down.

An eyeroll from Steve tells him that’s not really going to do the trick. Stupid oblivious super-soldiers not needing that kind of confirmation from the public.

“Come on,” Steve says, “I’m hungry.”

***

“Ohmigod.” Tony blurts it out as he’s lazily scrolling through the news. He’s sprawled out on the couch, one leg over the armrest and the other hanging off the side, his head resting in Steve’s lap while Steve is trying to sketch.

“What is it?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He scrolls down more, still not quite believing it.  
“Well if you’re not gonna tell me-”

“We have a celebrity couple name now. And it _sucks_.”

“A what?”

“You really are oblivious, Rogers,” Tony says as he struggles to sit upright. His stomach protests the movement. Maybe he shouldn’t have had so many pancakes at brunch.

Steve shoots him a look.

“It’s kind of a thing. They give celebrity couples these weird nicknames that are a portmanteau of their names. Like Brad and Angelina are Brangelina, and Ben and Jennifer are Bennifer.”

“So we have one now? But we’re not celebri-”

Tony shoots him a look. “Really Rogers? I’m rich and you’re frikking _hot_ , and we’re openly in a same-sex relationship. People have gotten famous for a _lot_ less.”

“Huh. So what’s our name?”

Tony shoves the tablet at him to show him the pictures now making their way around the internet. They must have been taken this morning, because there’s Tony leaning across Steve to take a bite out of the piece of toast Steve is holding.

“Tony and Steve. We’re TOaST.”

“Hmm.” Steve looks positively unvexed. “I kinda like it.”

“Of course you do. You love carbs.”


End file.
